


The Tragedy

by captnswilson



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Jewish Maximoff Family (Marvel), M/M, Multi, Post-X-Men: Dark Phoenix (2019)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29608068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captnswilson/pseuds/captnswilson
Summary: Erik has been nothing but happy the last two years, living with his husband in Genosha and helping fellow mutants. However, the idyll is interrupted when he learns that he has three grown children: one who has been by his side the whole time, one who doesn't want anything to do with him, and one who needs his help. Reunited with his family, Erik will see for himself that every good thing comes with a price.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written any fic in a while but this one has been living in my mind rent free for a long time. I would have probably never decided to publish it if it weren't for wandavision. This series is a huge inspiration that makes me want to create and create. This is a story about Erik and his children but also about Erik and Charles. I have to warn you that some things might not make sense - the chronology of the x men is messed up and to add more confusion, somehow, Wanda is in the same universe as the other characters are but she's not Peter's twin. I de-aged the characters for the purpose of this fic but I'm not planning on stating their age. Many things will be explained with time but yeah, you just have to go with it. The prologue gives a little glimpse at what is going to happen later in the story and the next few chapters will slowly lead us to this moment. Anyway, prepare for some funny moments and a lot of angst delivered to you by the best and the most powerful family!
> 
> Also, English isn't my native language but this isn't my first story written in English so I hope it won't be that bad. Feel free to tell me what you think and perhaps share some predictions. I'll try to publish new chapters once a week so you don't have to wait too long. Enjoy :)

_“Peace was never an option”_

**The day of the tragedy**

The glade was a scene of utter chaos.

When Magneto raised his hands to strike the final bow, the whole world held its breath. For a short moment, there was no sound whatsoever. Cold wind shook the silence, making them all shiver and remember that somehow, despite everything that had happened, time was still passing. All eyes were focused on the man who could single-handedly decide about the future of their existence.

Among the people looking at him was Wanda. She was half lying on the grass; her face smudged with dirt and blood, her hair tousled. Tears shined in her eyes and her lower lip trembled a little. Her gaze was full of the pain that had accompanied her for months and now seemed so strong as if her heart was about to tear itself apart. She wanted to stop _him_ , but somewhere along the way she had given up. The will to fight was no longer in her.

Not far away from Wanda was Peter. His mother’s old warning resounded again and again in his head. _I’m not afraid of him_ , he had said back then. In response, his mother had told him that he should and not until this very moment did he understand the true meaning of those words. He stood between his two sisters, slightly bent over. He put his left hand on his right arm, just above the elbow where it ached. His eyes were wide open and for the first time in a while Peter had nothing to say.

The last of the siblings, Lorna, knelt by her unconscious fiancé, holding Marcos’ head in her lap and not taking her eyes off her father even for a moment. Strands of black-green hair stuck to her tear-stained face. Black mascara had left imprints on her cheeks. She hated the idea of just sitting there and watching but there was not much she could do. Or maybe, though it would be hard to admit it out loud, part of her was rooting for _him_. Someone had to end it eventually, and maybe that was the only way. Maybe _he_ was the only one to finish it once and for all.

“Dad”, she said, loud enough for Erik to hear.

That one word caught him off guard for a second. Not only did Lorna refer to him as such for the first time since he had found her, it was the way she said that shook him to the core. There was something unspoken in her voice, some powerful feeling hard to recognize and name. 

Their eyes met. The world was balancing on the brink of destruction around them, but for a short moment everything ceased to matter. The thread of understanding that connected these two people, a father and a daughter, seemed to be the only thing to be of any importance.

And then Charles joined in.

If there was anyone who could stop Magneto, anyone who could talk some sense to him, it was no one else but Charles Xavier – his old friend, nemesis, soulmate. These two had spent decades on opposite sides of the conflict, and whenever they managed to ignore the divergence of interests and restore their relationship, one of them always had to suffer. For the past two years they had lived in peace, putting past mistakes behind them, but the life they had created together, the happiness they had felt was in truth stolen and marked with an expiration date.

They might have been fooling each other and themselves for a long time, but now there was no place for denial. No matter what decision was about to be made that day, there was no going back for neither of them.

“Don’t do it, Erik.” Charles tightened his fingers on hand rims of his wheelchair. “I know you think there’s no other way but there always is.”

“Not this time. You and I, we’ve tried to leave in peace, we’ve tried to behave and look where it has brought us! Why can’t you understand that I’m doing it for us, Charles?” He looked around at his children. “For all of us.”

Wanda, Peter and Lorna endured his gaze but kept quiet. Charles took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment as what he was about to say was too hard to bear. When he looked at his husband again, the muscles in his face twitched and tears ran down his cheeks.

“If you do this,” he whispered, “you will erase everything we’ve built together. Nothing will be the same anymore.”

Charles was not the only one who wanted to see at least a shadow of hesitation on his face and was met with disappointment. Silence fell again and for a moment the two people battled each other with their eyes – the two men whose love once brought solace to their hearts but mostly caused countless amounts of suffering. This was supposed to be the final nail in the coffin, the fatal blow to their relationship.

“I know and I’m sorry.”

That was the last thing Erik Lehnsherr dared to say before he let the biggest tragedy of all occur.

* * *

**3 months before the tragedy**

Erik hated being away from Genosha, though mostly because of Charles. The country was a wonderful place and he never thought about it as of anything but his home. He had a beautiful large house with breathtaking views out the windows and a few neighbors in the form of fellow mutants. He loved everything about Genosha but it was Charles that made the whole experience of living there unique.

It had been two years since Erik had found Charles in Paris and offered him a place to stay. He might as well have proposed to him right away and it would have worked out the same. At that time, Erik had not realized how serious of a step that was. Up to that point, they had had a sort of love-hate relationship going on and the decision of moving in together meant getting rid of the hate part.

They settled into a house too big for two people, but the vast space did not happen to be a stimulus to seclusion. Quite the contrary; Erik and Charles spent every spare moment with each other, as if trying to make up for years wasted on hurting each other. Having known about their close but complicated relationship, no one was really surprised when after only two months they started sleeping in the same bedroom, and after hardly a year their wedding took place on the coast of the island, with the participation of the closest mutants.

Erik had never been so happy before. The day he proposed to Charles was the day he finally lifted an invisible weight off his shoulders. Tired after long years of fighting with humans, Charles and even himself, he could finally rest. Relief fell upon him in the form of the life shared with the person he had subconsciously always loved, and whom he could now love openly.

Most of their time together consisted of staying in Genosha, where, locked in their big house, they could enjoy their own happiness. Sometimes, however, they had to go out into the world and Erik despised every minute spent away from his husband.

Today was one of those days and Erik found himself in Chicago. He was just returning from a meeting with a certain mutant. That's what he and Charles had been doing lately: when they were not focused on much more pleasant things typical for a fresh marriage, they looked for mutants all over the world and tried to get in touch with them. They wanted to help people with special abilities, so they offered them tuition at the Jean Grey School for Gifted Youngsters, which was founded and not so long ago still led by Charles, or offered them a place in Genosha.

Charles was happy at Genosha, at least that was what he claimed, and Erik wanted very much to believe him, but he knew that his husband sometimes missed the school. The help they invested their time in was very important to him; by recruiting gifted children, he believed that he kept doing something good, that he could still, in a way, watch over the school and its students even if it was no longer his home.

Erik understood his need and did not mind it at all. He himself had always put the welfare of mutants above all else, and he knew there was still enough room in the country for people like him. He would rather have Charles with him, though, because his company sweetened meetings with rebellious kids.

The one he had just visited was interested in transferring to the school, but there was something annoying about him. He reminded him a little of that kid Peter, who kept insisting on visiting Erik and Charles at their house for some unexplained reason. He was their most frequent guest. To be more precise, he stayed so often in Genosha to the point that Charles had given him his own room and allowed him to decorate it as he wanted what Peter did in a heartbeat.

Sometimes you could get the impression that he would have gladly stayed with them forever if it were not for his obligations to the school where he now taught, or to his own family. Erik did not know much about his parents, but he would gladly pay them a visit and make them aware that their son’s pushiness needed to be weeded out as soon as possible before Erik would be forced do this himself.

It was not that he did not like the kid. Peter brought joy to the house, filling empty rooms with his ubiquitous presence. He was funny and in overall quite likable, but he did not know the meaning of the words privacy, peace and rest. Charles never saw anything wrong with Peter visiting them so often, and was even the one to suggest it at times.

If there was something Erik did not understand about Charles, it was his sympathy towards Peter but he did not dare to complain out loud. He knew that he would eventually realize the truth behind his husband’s reasoning.

There were three hours left to his flight and he could not wait to soak in his bath full of warm water and then have a fancy dinner with Charles. Nothing gave him pleasure like such ordinary things, and he could no longer recall a time when he could get through a day without kissing Charles. How could he ever get up and see anything other than his face? How could he fall asleep without his touch and the sound of his heartbeat next to him? Two years before, Erik had been a completely different man and he loved the person he had become since then.

As he was walking down a street in Chicago, his thoughts far away in Genosha, he did not notice a vehicle stopping right behind him and several masked men jumping out of the trunk. He only realized the danger when something pricked his neck and paralyzed his body. As he fell, Charles’ face, always so vivid in his imagination, blurred before his eyes.


	2. The Secret

_"I'm here for my family, too"_

**3 months before the tragedy**

Erik woke up with a throbbing pain in his neck, numb limbs, and slightly foggy vision. He lifted his head, which had been drooping against his chest, and straightened up. It quickly dawned on him that someone had attacked him and was now holding him hostage in an unfamiliar place.

He looked around, but his gaze met nothing else than empty walls and a pair of doors. The room was devoid of any furniture except the plastic chair he was sitting on. Before he could even think of the need to create an escape plan, the door opened and a man in a black suit with a file folder in his one hand and a plastic chair in the other stood at the threshold.

While the man was suspiciously slowly entering the room and closing the door behind him, Erik focused all his attention on finding any metal object nearby. He knew well the feeling of metal responding to his call when he could sense its presence and control it. This time, he did not feel anything. There was nothing in the entire building that he could use to get out of here.

The man smiled as he sat down on his chair. He did not have anything made of metal either.

"I'm afraid your effort is pointless, Mr. Lehnsherr. We do not mean to hurt you, but in case you refuse to believe us, we had to make sure our meeting would not abound in casualties. Your reputation precedes you."

Erik sat down more comfortably, meaning as comfortable as it was possible on a plastic chair with a backrest that reached halfway up his back. He squinted, staring at his interlocutor but remained silent.

"I can assure you we do not mean any harm. All of that," he looked around the room and then at Erik, "is just a precaution. Do you want anything to drink or eat? You slept all night."

When there was no response, Price leaned over on his chair and placed the files on his lap.

"You must be very curious," he continued. "I am not going to keep you in suspense any longer. Well, my name is Jonathan Price, and I represent a group that provides legal representation for mutants. We are doing everything we can to keep mutants from being wrongfully sent to prison."

"Are you a mutant yourself?"

"No, but there is a possibility that I do have an ability that just hasn't manifested itself yet. Both of my parents were mutants. Unfortunately, they died not a long time ago and I try to honor their memory by helping those like them."

Price spoke with a lawyer's tone, as if he were presenting evidence in a court case, but there was also a lot of gentleness in his voice. He was a man at most 40 years old with light blond hair and blue eyes. He gave the impression of a smart and friendly man, but Erik knew that no one could be trusted.

"I do not need legal help," he said sharply.

It was not entirely true. Erik had already been in prison once, from where he was bailed out thanks to Charles, Peter, and that strange man from the future. He had always had a tough time with the law and if you counted all his victims, he would get life sentence or the death penalty. However, he had always managed to escape the hand of justice and did not want anyone's help to do so, especially from someone who was not even a mutant.

"Actually, we need yours. There is one person, a young woman of a great power, imprisoned in the Pentagon." Price peeked into his files. "The enormity of the damage she has caused is so great that no lawyer, not even the best one, could get her out of there. That is why I am asking for your help, Mr. Lehnsherr. She is still a young woman who, guided properly, may redeem herself. Being locked up deprives her of this chance."

"What do you expect me to do?"

Jonathan smiled, lifting his head to look at Erik.

"Since one cannot get her out of there in a legal, official way, it must be done quietly. You, famous Magneto, have already escaped from this prison, so I have no doubt that you will be able to get someone else out of there as well."

That day was strange. It would have been easier for Erik to accept the situation if he were being held captive and had to fight to survive. Yet, the reality was different, and he did not know what to think about any of it. He leaned over, running his hands over his face.

"Look, I do want to help mutants but this woman, whoever she is… she seems a lost cause."

His thoughts wandered to Charles, who certainly would not approve of this idea. He cared about mutants, but he did not excuse their actions, and he could easily give up on them if they did things that were universally considered evil. Erik had learned this the hard way many years before.

"Since you're clearly having doubts, I think it's high time to mention that this is no ordinary woman." He paused for a moment that seemed like forever. "She's your daughter."

It all happened quickly. Erik did not realize what he was doing until he was right next to Price, clamped his hand over his throat and lifted him above the ground, bringing Price's face close to his. The folder slipped from Jonathan's hand, its pages scattering across the floor.

"What kind of sick joke is it? My daughter died ages ago in Poland!"

"Not this daughter…," Price groaned, struggling for breath. "Another one."

Erik lowered the man to the ground, but immediately grabbed him by the material of his suit.

"What does it mean?!"

"You have two more daughters, Mr. Lehnsherr. And a son."

If the ground had parted at his feet, Erik would have been less surprised than he was at that moment. Something sank inside him, pressing against his heart. Though he was not the one being suffocated just now, he suddenly ran out of air. He let go of Price and took a few steps back, nearly falling into a chair.

"I-I don't believe you," he whispered.

He had never so desperately craved for his power. He wanted to feel the metal yielding to his mind, wanted to hear Jonathan Price scream and beg for his life. He wanted to feel powerful, deadly, unbreakable – not hopeless and devastated as he was then.

"It's all there." Price pointed at the files. "Everything we know about her. Just look at the things she has done and find out if you can honestly say that she does not sound like someone of your blood."

Hesitating only for a second, Erik reached for the papers. He sat down, tracing with his eyes the scraps of his alleged daughter's life spread out in his lap.

Her name was Wanda.

She was born in Sokovia and lost her parents at a very young age. There was not much information about her early life. She got known by the public in her late teens, when she joined a group of superheroes and accidentally killed a lot of people saving one of her teammates. She was for a short time imprisoned, but then managed to escape and leave in hiding. Later, Wanda lost a man she loved and attempted at bringing him back to life by also creating a new reality. It was not long before she was caught and imprisoned in the heavily guarded Pentagon, which had to undergo many improvements to be able to keep someone as strong as her.

Wanda was indeed a powerful mutant. The list of her abilities took up two pages and each ability was more impressive than the last. Erik could not help but feel a certain sense of pride. Although he still did not believe she could be his daughter, he longed to help her come out and get to know her power personally.

And then he looked at the last page, which showed a picture of Wanda. The woman had reddish-brown hair and wore an outfit in such shades. She did not look dangerous, but if she possessed that much power, she was more than dangerous. She was invincible.

Erik raised his head. Price opened his mouth as if to speak, but Erik never found out what he was exactly going to say. The door opened suddenly and some other man walked into the room.

"Release my husband immediately," he said in a firm voice, "and you will not be harmed."

Price's eyes widened in surprise as he looked at his colleague, who seemed stupefied and although he spoke in his own voice, the words definitely belonged to someone else.

Erik stood up, glancing at the man with a mixture of amusement and wonder.

"Charles?"

"Of course, it's me. Are you alright, darling?"

It was peculiar to talk to someone who was a stranger to him, but at the same time spoke the words of his husband. Erik had enough of it all, so he just nodded, turning to face Price.

"I guess that's my ride. I'll see what I can do about our shared interest. Do you… you do know anything about the other two?"

"I'm afraid not, but I believe you'll find them yourself. It was very nice meeting you, Mr. Lehnsherr, despite, well, you know. I hope this is not the last time we've seen each other."

Erik's desires were completely different, but he restrained himself from saying it out loud. He moved down the corridor and quickly found his way out of the small building made entirely of concrete, stone, wood, glass, and plastic. There was nothing metallic about it. He did not know the purpose of this place. It was all too suspicious but he did not mean to ask. At least, for now. He was too confused to wish to stay here for another minute. The man, who was still under Charles' control, let him out and closed the door behind him.

Just outside the building was a small plane. Erik spotted Charles, who was accompanied by Peter. He moved toward them, tucking the files he had taken into the inside pocket of his coat.

"Nice entrance, Charles," he said with a smile, placing a light kiss on his husband's forehead. "How did you find me?"

"I was using Cerebro and realized that you were in a different place than you should be. Peter arranged for us to have a plane with a pilot, so we decided to check it out. You did not look like someone who needed rescuing, though." Charles glanced at him closely and Erik hoped he would not use his tricks to find out the truth. He wanted to tell him everything but he preferred to do it at home, away from those strange people. "What happened there?"

"I'll explain everything at home," he promised.

That answer was apparently enough for Charles, who moved on his wheelchair toward the helicopter. Erik followed him, unable to shake the feeling that Peter was carefully watching each of his steps.

* * *

The hot weather could not wash away the awful feeling that lived inside of him. The mere possibility that his three children lived somewhere out there - and he had wasted so much time, which he might as well have devoted to them - was slowly driving him crazy. At some point, whether it was on the way to Genosha, or when he entered the house in the company of his husband and the unwanted guest, or maybe already during his conversation with Jonathan Price, he began to believe that everything he had learned today was true.

He had not spoken to Charles about it yet. Once home, Charles and Peter began preparing a late dinner, and Erik found a valid excuse for leaving the room. He locked himself in the bathroom for half an hour, wanting to be alone with his thoughts, but it did not help much.

Erik rubbed the steam off the mirror and looked at his reflection. Although it was the last thing he wanted, his memories of Nina's death were extremely vivid in his mind. When he had lost his daughter, he had not intended to have children ever again. Now it turned out that, perhaps, he had already had four of them at that time.

His life with Charles was perfect as it was, and Erik felt nothing but happiness with the love of his life by his side, but knowing that his family could significantly grow filled him with a desire to act. He had to find them. He had to meet his own children.

Wanda needed him. She was locked in prison, condemned to solitude. Erik understood the suffering that pushed her to the edge of morality, understood everything she had to go through. He was the only person who could get her out of there and the only one who could give her the sense of acceptance that she had not found among humans.

With that thought in mind, Erik found Charles and Peter in the dining room, ate two sandwiches, then took out the files and recounted the things he had learned from Jonathan Price. Charles was disturbed by these revelations, but he did not seem surprised. When Erik finished, Charles slid the papers in front of him and picked the one with Wanda's picture.

"Three children, Erik," he said, shaking his head. "How many women have you been with?"

Erik could not help but laugh.

"Come on, Charles. I bet you have a lot to brag about, too. You were quite frivolous when I first met you. Only later did you turn into the professor of moralizing."

Charles tried hard not to look amused, but Erik could not be easily fooled, especially by his own husband.

"At least I do not think there's a possibility of me having children. Although…, "he wondered out loud, "Who knows? Maybe I have a son I don't know about, the mutant stronger than any of us, with powers such as reality warping, telekinesis and, of course, telepathy."

"This is weirdly specific," Erik pointed out with a huge smile on his lips.

Not being able to hold it back any longer, Charles laughed. Erik loved that view. Charles' face, filled with joy and love, was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and the best part was knowing he could see it every day.

"So, are you going to get her out of the Pentagon?"

They both looked at Peter, who spoke for the first time since Erik had summarized the day's events to them. Erik had managed to forget his presence and was now surprised to see the look on the man's face. Peter spoke in his casual tone while eating his sandwiches one by one, but there was something in his eyes, something that betrayed his true feelings. He was nervous and Erik had no clue why.

"I am." He glanced at Charles. "I hope you don't mind."

"Actually, I think it is the right thing to do. You can count on me."

Not for the first time that day, Erik was overwhelmed with unspoken love for this man. However, knowing that he had to behave in Peter's presence, he just took his husband's hand in his. It had to be enough for now.

"Charles… I would also like to find the other two. Maybe even before we reach Wanda so they can help us. Do you think you could search for them with Cerebro? I don't even know what to look for. They could be anywhere."

He might have misinterpeted the situation, but it seemed to him that Charles and Peter exchanged glances before Charles squeezed his hand tighter.

"I'll do anything in my power to find your daughter, Erik. Once, using Cerebro, I came across a girl with similar abilities to yours. That might be a clue, although it was a long time ago and I was too busy with something else to investigate the matter more."

Erik nodded, lost in thought. Something did not make him feel at ease.

"What about my son? Will you help me find him as well?"

Charles sighed heavily, let go of Erik's hand and looked at Peter. He seemed tired and angry, and sad, and scared – all at once.

"I think it's time."

"Yeah, totally," Peter admitted, standing up. He was now openly nervous. "It's bedtime! Sweet d-"

"No, Peter," Charles interrupted him abruptly; the tense in his voice surprised Erik. "Don't try to run away from this."

The last two days had been long and full of surprises, yet earlier Erik had not been as confused as he was now. He did not understand the way Charles and Peter looked at each other; it was as if they shared a secret. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Charles…," he started uncertainly. "What does the kid have to do with any of it?"

It was then that Charles began to avoid his gaze, and Peter sat back in his seat across from Erik. Their eyes met, and somehow Erik knew that whatever this kid, whom he had hitherto considered an intruder, was about to say would drastically change his opinion about him. His throat became dry, and his heart was beating like crazy as he watched Peter twist restlessly in his chair.

More seconds passed and Erik was ready to state bitingly that for someone so quick, at important moments he was terribly slow, when Peter suddenly said, "There is something you should know."

And then he finally revealed the truth.


	3. The Loyal One

_"He's my father"_

**3 months before the tragedy**

Peter told him everything. He spoke quickly and chaotically, but Erik understood just enough to let his whole world turn upside down. With every word uttered by Peter, the pieces of the puzzle came together, Erik's questions got answered, and the other things, the ones Peter could not say simply because of his unawareness, Erik could figure out for himself.

He remembered Peter's mother and the few months they had spent together. It had seemed to be a fleeting acquaintance in his memories but now it turned to be significant in its implications. Erik now thought with some doze of nostalgia about those old times, being grateful for that little romance as it had given him something he had always subconsciously wanted – a son.

His attitude towards Peter had changed in a matter of minutes. Erik despised himself for the way he had previously viewed the boy. Just the day before, he had thought of Peter as an annoying kid who abused his and Charles' hospitality. He had only seen the kid's flaws; how ubiquitous he was, how childish and reckless.

Now he was looking at his son, and therefore a completely different person. He appreciated the fact that Peter wanted to spend as much time with him as possible despite Erik's dryness. He realized that Peter was not as stupid as he might have seemed at times, that he was a good man with a very friendly disposition, a tendency to joke and a high level of loyalty that could not be easily found in a person.

Peter had long since stopped talking and was now expecting some sort of response, but Erik would not be able to make a sound even if his life depended on it. He knew he must have looked comical, sitting like that with his arms lowered along his torso and his mouth slightly open. He gave Peter a blank stare and called it a day.

As predicted, it was not enough for Peter who titled his head, furrowed his eyebrows, and asked Charles a question: "Is he having a stroke?"

Thought he did not see it, Erik was sure his husband must have sent Peter a scolding look before he placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Erik, are you alright?"

Somehow, facing Charles was easier than facing Peter, so he gathered all his strength and turned to his husband. Charles looked at him uncertainly, in the same way he always did when something was likely to divide them, and neither of them knew how the confrontation might end this time.

"How long have you known?" He answered with a question of his own. "I thought we promised not to keep secrets from each other."

"Oh, darling, you know it wasn't my secret to tell. Peter asked me for discretion when he told me the truth and we can both assure you it was not long ago. Peter felt bad about prolonging his stay at our house, so he provided me with an explanation."

Another thing finally made sense. That was the reason why Charles did not mind Peter often staying overnight with them, and even gave him one of the rooms to claim as his own. Erik should feel lighter at the thought of finally understanding the behavior of both Charles and Peter, yet he felt even worse. Everything reminded him of how badly he had treated Peter until this day.

"I'll leave you two alone. You have a lot to catch up." Charles moved his hand from Erik's shoulder to his cheek. "Be gentle."

Erik was only slightly offended by this blatant insinuation that he might be harsh toward his own son. He watched Charles disappear down the hallway. When his wheels could no longer be heard gliding across the floor, Peter leaned back in his chair and looked at his father.

"You gotta give me something, man. So far, I've been the one talking. How are you?"

"I'm disappointed."

"Right." Peter scratched the back of his neck, looking away. "Well, this is totally what I expected, but to actually hear it from you…"

Only after a moment did it occur to him what Peter meant.

"Oh god, Peter, not by you," he rushed to explain, already feeling like the worst father ever. "I'm disappointed by myself. I should have known. I am sorry I wasn't there to see you grow up and become the wonderful man you are today. I truly am."

Peter looked at him in a way he had never done before. Erik smiled, trying hard to control his emotion, which grew with each passing moment. His son was staring at him as if it were heaven that Erik had just given him, not a few simple words.

"It's fine. You did not know I existed. Fancy a cold drink?"

Before Erik could even blink, Peter appeared right beside him with two bottles of beer straight from the fridge.

"That's how I used to picture myself with my father once I would find him," Peter told him. "I thought of us having a beer together, you know, a father and a son."

"Love the idea."

They clinked their bottles. Peter returned to his seat; Erik watched him take a sip of beer and make a funny face.

"I'm not really a fan of alcohol. Beer tastes like cat pee. Not that I know what cat pee tastes like."

Erik laughed, "There's still so much I don't know about you. Do you think we could make up for lost time? Do more of the typical father and son things?"

"As long as you don't make me play football. I can show you my record collection."

"How many of them are stolen?"

"Most of them," he admitted with a serious voice. "I'm not proud of it. I mean, I am not proud of my past as a shoplifter, but I'm definitely proud of my collection. The music is dope, man."

For a moment, nothing else mattered except the cold beer that Erik sipped with pleasure as he listened to his joyful son. Just a week before, an evening spent with Peter would have been something unthinkable, but now he could not imagine any other end to the day.

"Did you really think I would be disappointed by you?" he asked. "Is it why you didn't tell me sooner?"

Peter shrugged, sipping his beer. It took him a moment to answer.

"That's one of the two reasons."

"How could I ever be disappointed by you? Look at yourself, Peter! You are incredible. You've got me out prison, you saved my life, and you did it all in span of seconds. I'm always impressed by the things I can do."

His words did not seem to comfort Peter. In fact, they could have only confirmed his belief. Peter got more serious, and this time Erik did not think it was part of the joke. He saw something in Peter's eyes that resembled regret and Erik began to wonder if he was not the one who should be worried about causing a feeling of disappointment in his son.

"That's the thing, man. You judge people by their abilities. My super-speed is the only thing that stopped you many times from throwing me out of the house. I mean, this and maybe your husband."

"Peter," Erik started but he was not sure what he wanted to say. He set the bottle down and leaned across the table. "Do you really think that low of me?"

"Hey! Don't turn it against me. You know well enough how high I think of you. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Can you tell the same about yourself? Can you say that you like me for who I am? Not for who I am to you or who I am as a mutant?"

Erik was surprised by the sincerity and seriousness with which Peter laid out his concerns before him. For a moment, he could not get the words out and was afraid Peter would misread his silence. All sorts of emotions were boiling inside him, and not for the first time that day, he cursed himself for all those days when he saw Peter as the opposite of who he really was.

"I get it, though," Peter continued, undeterred by his father's lack of response. "You and Charles got married and you wanted some time alone. I shouldn't have invaded your privacy like that. I guess… I guess I just wanted to spend some time with my father. We hardly ever were alone and all those times, I tried to tell you the truth but-"

"You thought I didn't like you," Erik finished as his heart broke into pieces. "I admit there were times when I wished it would be just me and Charles, but I know the truth now and I do appreciate your efforts. I hope you still want to spend some time with your old man because, honestly, this is all I'm asking you for."

Peter was looking at him for a moment that seemed like forever, and when Erik began to believe that he had missed his chance at forming a bond with his only son, Peter smiled gleefully, as if it were all just a joke, but Erik saw real emotion in his eyes. He was just as moved as his father.

"So, what is the second reason?"

"Um… You won't like it."

Erik smiled, "Try me."

"When I decided to find you, my mum warned me. You were a very dangerous person in her eyes but the things you did, they didn't really matter to me. I just wanted a father. Do you remember that day in Cairo, when you almost helped destroy the whole world and Raven talked you out of it?" When Erik nodded, he continued. "I told Raven and I was going to tell you too, but then I saw you, being this close to hurting Charles, and I thought… I just thought that if you were capable of doing such a thing to your oldest friend, then maybe being one of your loved ones could end badly for me. Later, you helped us defeat Apocalypse and you rebuilt the school but you didn't want to stay. This time, I didn't intend on following you. I mean, not until you teamed with us again and moved in with Charles."

There was silence between them. Peter played with the bottle cap, glancing uncertainly at his father, who was deep in thought. That day, Erik had not just left Charles behind, but Peter as well, without even knowing it. If he had made a different decision then, if he had agreed to stay in the school, many things would have turned out differently. Maybe he and Charles would have gotten together faster. Maybe Peter would have told him the truth sooner. Maybe the Jean thing would have been handled better, and Raven would not have died.

"You were right to be worried, Peter. Everywhere I went, I brought death with myself, but I want to believe that I'm not this person anymore. You're not disappointed in me, are you?"

"You're kidding, right? I think you're awesome."

Erik did not have to think about what he was doing. He simply got up and walked over to his son. For someone who was super-fast, Peter was surprised by this sudden act.

"Wait, are you going to kill…" The words froze on his lips as Erik put his arms around him. "Oh. This is nice."

Though with much hesitation, Peter reciprocated the hug. Erik could not help but smile. He hugged his son the way he would have hugged him when he had been a toddler. He hugged his son the way he would have hugged him when he had been learning to ride a bike, discovering his powers, bringing in his first bad grade from school. He hugged him for all the times he could not be there for Peter as he grew up. He hugged him as if that one hug could make up for all the lost moments.

"I'll never let anything bad happen to you," he said, placing a hand on the back of Peter's head. "You're safe with me, son. I promise."

* * *

Charles smiled, not lifting his eyes from the book he was reading, as Erik flopped onto the bed beside him and buried his face in the pillow. Only one lamp was lit in the room, the one standing on Charles' side of the bed. The door to their private bathroom was open and one could still smell the residual scent of soap and oils in the air.

"What a day, hm?" Charles murmured.

"What a day," Erik repeated, rolling over onto his right side and propping his head up on his elbow so he could take a look at his husband. "I'm exhausted."

"That is unfortunate. We haven't seen each other for a few days and I thought we would make up for lost time tonight. But since you're exhausted…"

Erik did not let him finish. He leaned over Charles and sealed his lips with a kiss that was not only meant to make up for the last few days, but also for all the time between meeting each other and getting married, for all the time wasted on conflict. Charles groaned as his book fell out of his hands and hit the floor loudly, but he did not break the kiss. He cupped Erik's face with his hands and pulled him closer.

"I've missed you," he whispered between kisses. "Now that I know what it feels like to have all of you just for myself, being far from you seems like a torture."

It was unusual to hear something like that from Charles' mouth, and Erik knew that it was remorse over the secret being kept from him that prompted Charles' confession but Erik could not be mad at him. In fact, he was going to make the most of his husband's sudden moment of heightened emotions.

That did not mean at all that Charles never showed affection for him or made him feel like the most loved person in the world. It was just that often a mere glance or a fleeting touch was enough to reassure Erik of that belief. He himself was not a very affectionate person and they both liked it that way, but sometimes even in their relationship there was room for a little sweetness. Erik deserved it after rough two days.

"How was the meeting with the mutant kid?"

Erik felt like it had happened years ago. He had already forgotten why he had left Charles to go to Chicago in the first place.

"He agreed to move to the school. You have to call Hank or Scott tomorrow and tell them to go pick him up."

"Sure. I guess we have to take a break from finding other mutants and focus on your daughters."

 _Your daughters._ It was still weird for Erik to hear such a thing. The silence reigned in the room. Erik laid his head on Charles' chest and closed his eyes. If it were not for the fact that he was too aroused from the revelations he had heard in the last two days, he probably would have fallen asleep quickly lulled to sleep by Charles' scent and the sound of his beating heart right next to Erik's ear.

"How do you feel?"

Erik guessed that Charles was asking about his reaction to everything he had learned lately. It was hard to respond.

"I don't know," Erik answered softly. "Finding out that I have three children can be overwhelming, but finding out that one of them has been living under my roof for the last two years? This is too much even for me, Charles. It all sounds too good to be true."

"The way I see it is that fate is finally smiling on you. After so many years of suffering, you deserve happiness, and what can make you happier than family?"

Erik lifted his head and opened his eyes to look straight into his husband's face.

"You're my family," he said, this time with strength in his voice. "You're my source of happiness. I'm happy Peter's here and I want to meet my daughters but you'll always be the one for me. You'll always be enough."

Charles smiled lightly, running his hand over Erik's cheek. Sometimes, looking at him in moments full of peace like this one, Erik saw in Charles the young man he used to be, the one who had pulled him out of the water and had told him that he had not been alone. Charles was a different man now, and so was Erik, but he still remained the one person who could make Erik feel like he belonged. Like he would never be alone again.

"Just so you know, Erik, keeping the truth from you was not easy. I'm glad there are no longer any secrets between us."

"Well, Charles, you saying it was a difficult experience doesn't quite make up for it. I'm afraid there's nothing you can do to make me feel less offended by your silence."

Erik tried to put a serious tone to his words, though inside he was laughing to the point of tears. As expected, Charles swallowed the hook, or rather pretended to do so. He took Erik into his arms, put him on the pillows and began showering him with kisses.

"Oh, honey," Charles whispered, leaving a kiss on Erik's neck. His hands roamed Erik's body like a map they had already learned by heart. "I'm pretty sure there's at least one thing I can do."

He spent the whole night proving his point.


	4. The Fear

_"I hated him"_

**89 days before the tragedy**

Her name was Lorna.

They could not be sure if it was the woman they were looking for but everything pointed to it. Peter went through all the newspapers that Charles and Erik had collected over the past few months as potential help in finding the mutants. They rarely actually used them, but Peter, who could read a stack of pages in two seconds, came across a brief but interesting reference.

Charles lifted the newspaper to his eyes. The article said:

_A dangerous mutant on the loose. Lorna Dane, who also identifies herself as Polaris, has escaped from the prison she had been sent to for attacking and attempting to kill a police officer. Dane can control metal, which raises suspicions of her affinity with the most wanted mutant, Magneto. It is believed that Dane is hiding among those like her. Citizens in and around the Atlanta area are asked to contact the authorities if they acquire knowledge of Lorna Dane's location._

"The paper is almost two years old," Peter told him when he finished reading, "but it must be her. Even those jackasses think she's related to you."

Saying this, he looked at Erik, who was sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee. He seemed immersed in thought, but Charles suspected that anger lurked beneath the calm. The article made it clear to all three of them that mutants were still being prosecuted as criminals. Charles did not know much about Lorna, but he knew she must have had her reasons for attacking a police officer.

"Atlanta," Erik let the word hang between them before he added, "let's narrow the search to this city. Charles, I think it's time to use Cerebro."

So they left the kitchen, which still smelled of scrambled eggs, and walked the length of the hallway. Before the last door, Charles stopped and waited for Erik to open it for him. Peter kept them company, although one could see that it was difficult for him to adjust to their pace.

Not long after moving into this huge house, Erik and Charles had created a spherical room similar to the one at the school. Until that moment, Charles had used Cerebro to locate lonely young mutants. These were people he did not know anything about, randomly found in various places on earth. This time, however, he had to find a specific person.

Charles put his helmet over his head. He heard Erik and Peter position themselves on either side of him. He wandered his thoughts to the United States, the state of Georgia, and finally to the city of Atlanta. Imagines of hundreds of minds appeared around him. Most of them belonged to humans, but there was also a cluster of mutants not so easy to find as they lived underground.

He did not find Lorna among them, so he searched further until he finally stumbled upon a strong mind and power that, though in a more advanced state, he admired in his husband every day. He felt Erik squeeze his shoulder, but the touch was distant, as if Charles was no longer in his house but on the street in the company of Lorna and a man.

Lorna stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked over her shoulder. She had a hood draped over her black-green hair, and a green glow rose from her open palms as the woman looked around carefully.

"Lorna? What's wrong?" The man approached her. "We have to go."

"I just… I felt something."

Charles allowed himself to subtly let her know of his presence, but he had no intention of completely revealing himself and getting into a discussion with her. All he needed was one look at her, one insight into her mind and abilities to know that Lorna was a powerful mutant and a daughter of Erik Lehnsherr.

As the green light faded away in Lorna's hands, one of them was grabbed by the man and they both took off in a rush, running from something Charles could no longer see.

"I know where she is," Charles said, taking his helmet off. "It seems she's in some kind of danger so I suggest an immediate departure. Peter, we need a plane."

"Copy that!"

Peter saluted and disappeared before Charles had time to put his helmet back in place. He left the room on his wheelchair, struggling to remain calm. He could not help but share Erik's irritation, which was almost palpable. Charles did not need to read his mind to know that Erik was dying of curiosity.

"What did you mean by danger?" Erik finally exploded, barraging him with questions. "Is she going to be okay? How does she look like? Was there anyone with her? Is she my daughter?"

Charles laughed, entering the kitchen. He was going to make some tea and pack some sandwiches for the road. They had a long journey ahead of them.

"Whatever she is about to face, I'm certain she will do just fine. She takes after her father after all."

Erik slumped back in his chair with a strange smile on his lips. Charles had never seen him like this before, and if he did not know Erik better than he knew himself, he would have begun to seriously fear for his mental state. In the past few dozen hours, Erik had taken in more information than an ordinary person would be able to assimilate.

But Erik was no ordinary person. There was nothing ordinary about him.

Peter appeared out of nowhere and stole a sandwich right from under Charles' hands. Considering the speed and frequency with which this boy devoured his meals, a few sandwiches might not be enough for the journey. Charles looked into the refrigerator, but there was nothing there to fully satisfy the young man's appetite. Perhaps such a thing did not exist at all.

"The plane and the pilot are ready. You gotta give Matthew a huge tip after this."

Erik looked at his son with confusion, "Who's Matthew?"

"The pilot." Peter could not stand still. "Are we going or not? I'm really looking forward to meeting my sis."

"Hey, not so fast, son. I don't recall letting you fly with us."

Charles turned his back on them, partly to focus on making sandwiches but mostly he did it so neither of them would notice his smile. Things had never been so cheerful in this house before, and he sincerely regretted that Erik had not learned the truth sooner. Now that Erik was able to take on the role of father and Peter had gone from being an uninvited guest to a beloved son, their relationship became very heart-warming and, well, comical.

"You can't expect me to stay in this empty house while you guys are having the best time in Atlanta!"

"We're not going there to have fun, Peter. Mutants are prosecuted in Atlanta which means we might arrive there in the middle of a fight. I promised to keep you safe."

Peter's thoughts were so loud and filled with annoyance that Charles struggled to stop himself from fully reading them. Sometimes it was hard to control himself, especially with two personalities as strong as those of Erik and Peter. If the daughters decide to live with their father too, Charles will probably go crazy.

"I can be of use to you. I'm super-fast, remember? By the time you raise those deadly hands of yours, I'll have long since overpowered the attackers. Dad, please, don't be so stubborn."

Maybe it was because of the newly found bond that was still fragile, or maybe it was the fact that Peter called him _dad_ for the first time ever… either way something made Erik give in and let Peter fly with them. Charles looked at Erik, making it clear to him that he could fool his son but he could never fool his husband. It was clear to Charles that Erik wanted Peter to accompany him. For the next little while he would not want to leave his side like a real new father.

Erik shrugged and walked over to Charles to help him prepare the food. It was going to be an interesting day.

* * *

**88 days before the tragedy**

It was almost two in the morning when Lorna and Marcos arrived at the abandoned warehouses on the outskirts of the city. That was the place they were supposed to meet Olivia, one of their people hiding in a different place than them.

They looked around, but not a living soul could be seen. It was dark and quiet, eerily quiet. Lorna could hear her heart beating loudly and feel the fear creeping up her skin. A shiver ran through her. She would not call herself a fearful person, but that night she was not able to shake the feeling that something very bad was going to happen.

It had started with a strange message from Olivia asking to meet secretly. Her request seemed suspicious, but neither of them had any reason not to trust Olivia. Even though Lorna would have preferred to stay with Dawn, something was attracting her outside as if she had been a puppet and someone had pulled her strings to make use of her.

Then something more disturbing happened. As they had veered off the road during the day to avoid a police patrol, Lorna had suddenly felt someone's presence. She had not noticed anyone but Marcos at the time, but she could have sworn that someone had broken into her mind and planted an uneasy feeling inside. She did not know a mutant with that kind of power, and she wanted to believe she had been just imagining it.

But now the anxiety in her kept on growing as she walked around the inside of the warehouse, biting her nails and listening for any sounds.

She knew Marcos was watching her. He might have been wondering if this was not another manic episode. She could not blame him for that. He wanted the best for her, loved her more than anyone ever had, but sometimes he did not understand her. He did not understand her illness, though he never let her feel that she was in any way inferior because of it. He did not understand her aggression towards humans, though he forgave her for any overly bold act.

"Dawn smiled at me this morning," she said, playing with her fingers.

It was a safe topic and the best way to momentarily stop thinking about the world they lived in and how much struggle still awaited them. Marcos smiled, walking up to her. They had rarely been alone lately, just the two of them, and Lorna was as sad as she was happy about that.

"She does it more and more often," Marcos admitted. "Babe, I've been thinking…"

When he hesitated, Lorna raised her gaze to him, slipping the hood off her head. She grabbed his hand and squeezed his fingers, trying to give him the encouragement she did not feel herself. She often wondered if something had burned out in her at some point, if she would never manage to be truly happy again. But had she ever been before?

"We had to give her up once and I don't want to go through it again. Lorna… Let's get out of here. Let's go somewhere far away. Let's get married and make our own family."

"Marcos Diaz," she teased, "are you proposing to me?"

He smiled, and something fluttered in her heart, like a butterfly that had awakened from a long sleep. Maybe all was not lost yet.

"Well, isn't it a very romantic place?" he joked. "I might not be getting on one knee just yet but I'm serious, babe. I want to give you and Dawn the lives you deserve. Aren't you tired of fighting?"

She was. She would have been happy to drop it all if it were not for the devotion to her friends and the hard-to-weed-out desire for revenge. She knew she could not find happiness until all mutants were at peace and those pursuing them were punished.

Lorna rested her forehead against Marcos', closing her eyes and clearing her head of negative thoughts for a brief moment. Marcos and Dawn were what mattered most. She should draw strength from their love. She should put them first and leave the war behind. She should.

Suddenly, something rumbled in the darkness. Lorna and Marcos both stretched their hands out, ready to fight. Someone moved in front of them and Olivia's bright hair contrasted with the darkness around them as the woman stepped out from behind the containers. She looked like she had just found herself in the middle of a tornado. She had blood on her skin and clothes; her hair in disarray, her eyes red and swollen. Lorna felt her stomach clench at this view.

It was Marcos who dared to ask, "What happened?"

"They attacked us," Olivia answered with a trembling voice, "and I think they've followed me here."

Lorna and Marcos exchanged glances as the ground around them shook. The roar of the engines reached them. Soon the sound of approaching footsteps and the reloading of weapons could be heard. As the first faces appeared at the exit of the warehouse, Marcos sent a beam of light in their direction.

The metal revived in their line of sight when Lorna raised her hands and hurled everything she could find at her opponents. Then she grabbed Olivia by the arm and ran out the other exit, hearing Marcos run right after them.

"Where are the others?" Lorna looked at Olivia as they stood next to each other with their hands raised.

"There are no others," Olivia's voice broke. Lorna had never seen her in such a state before. "They're all gone, Polaris. I'm the only one left."

Something was boiling inside her, begging for an escape. When she saw a dozen of men, Lorna felt almost relieved. They started shooting, and she focused on the bullets, stopping them in their tracks. Then she turned them around so they could fly in the opposite direction.

"Lorna," Marcos warned her, as he always did when she was close to crossing the line. "Don't do it, Lorna."

But wasn't it too late? She had killed before. She had caused a plane to crash, bringing death to everyone on board. She never regretted it afterwards because the people there had deserved it. Those should meet the same fate. They had killed mutants.

However, it was Olivia who sent an electric beam, toppling all opponents to the ground. Lorna let the bullets fall right by them and looked at the clothes worn by the men. They were not police officers. She had never seen them before.

"Who are these people?"

"I don't know." Olivia shook her head. "There was one man with them. He… he took all our powers away. We couldn't defend ourselves. When the man left, the others killed my people. I ran away… I should have stayed and fought. I…"

"Hey." Marcos put a hand on her shoulder. "It's not your fault."

A shudder went through Lorna at the thought that there was a mutant who could steal powers. She knew that not all mutants were good, that they could even stand against each other, but this was beyond her imagination. How do you fight someone who can strip you of any ability to defend yourself?

"You said he had taken your powers as well," she turned to Olivia, "but you used it a few minutes ago."

"I guess it's not permanent." Olivia looked at her hands. "It means that all they needed was some time to regain the powers. I should have died with them."

Before Lorna and Marcos could respond, more opponents appeared. Each of them wielded weapons, but created from different materials. Lorna could not sense any metal in them. For this reason, she tried to search for some help by reaching inside the warehouse with her mind. Marcos and Olivia stood beside her. Even if she was not able to fully use her powers, at least they could ensure their victory.

However, something was still wrong. Lorna had the feeling that someone was watching her. And then the strangest thing in the world happened. Time stopped.

Well, that might have been an understatement. Time continued to pass, Lorna saw Marcos and Olivia look around in mute shock as the enemies circling them froze in place. They raised their guns to attack but none of fired. The men did not even blink. Lorna stared at them, unable to utter a world.

And then Lorna felt something pull the metal rod she had brought for herself from inside the warehouse from her grasp. It was impossible, and yet something deprived her of the tool. Or someone.

"Damn it, Lorna," Marcos started, watching as the rod pointed in the direction of one of the men. "What are you doing?"

"It's not me," she whispered.

The rod approached the man and, with irritating slowness, slammed into his forehead, piercing his skull through and through. The man did not even move. He continued to stand straight as blood oozed down his face and life drained from his body. Olivia screamed, Marcos gasped for air, and Lorna read the sign accordingly.

She knew what it meant and she hated the truth.

Suddenly the men fell, unconscious. Time seemed to flow normally again. The slain man was lying on his back with his eyes wide open. The rod protruded from his forehead. Marcos looked away from him and focused on Lorna.

"What the hell was that?"

"Not me."

Lorna shuddered at the sound of her voice, so firm and alien. She had expected something bad to happen that day, but the truth exceeded her expectations. A scream gathered inside her as she stared into the darkness from which a real monster was about to emerge.

"Lorna…" Marcos was desperate for answers. "If it were not you… This man got killed by a mutant who can control metal. There is only one person who, like you, can do such a thing."

Her past seemed to be kicking her in the stomach and slamming her on the face. Lorna choked back the scream and decided she would be tough. She did not understand why today, why right now, and she was not even the least bit ready, but she knew she could do it. There was nothing that could break her completely. Not even her biological father.

"Yes." She looked the darkness straight in the eyes. "It's _him_."


End file.
